


Little Soldier Boy

by chiaraherondale



Category: Avatar (TV), Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Brotp, Character Death, Crying, Fire Nation, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Iroh's Funeral, Leaves from the vine, Sad, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 05:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3678783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiaraherondale/pseuds/chiaraherondale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day had to come eventually. Iroh's funeral takes place at the Royal Palace and the old Team Avatar along with Mai are there for Zuko, trying to help him on this sad day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Soldier Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't read any of the comics so far, therefore I do not know anything about the events which happened in them and this work is written purely from the point of view of someone who has just seen the series, not read the comics.

The colourful leaves were flowing in the wind as the courtyard of the Royal Palace was being prepared for the big event. Servants were sweeping the ground, benders were lighting torches on fire, benches were being brought in by muscular men in red uniforms. A single figure stood on the balcony of the palace and overlooked the preparations.

He stood tall and proud, yelled a thing or two at the servants, hands clasped behind his back. It was a very, very long day. He sighed and rubbed his face. _You’re the Fire Lord. You can’t show weakness. You have to be strong. Today at least, of all days._ Voices in his head told him. And they were right. He was in no place to cry. This was a part of the circle of life, after all. People died and were born every day.

“That’s it. Thank you for your service. You may now go prepare yourself for the ceremony,” he shouted the last order and the servants disappeared. Their work was beautiful, he had to admit. Rows of benches were on the courtyard, a big aisle with a red carpet in the middle, lined with the torches. Under the balcony, there was a small stage surrounded by tall flames, where the coffin lay.

“Zuko?” a caring voice called his name from behind. He turned and was greeted by his wife’s loving, but concerned smile. She walked up to him and hugged him. At first, he stood still, but then he let his walls down and squeezed her tight. He put his head on her shoulder and breathed raggedly.

“It’s all done now, Zuko, just come in and rest, please,” his wife pled. Mai took his hand and dragged him inside. As they walked, he watched her thick, black hair on her back, her black dress lining her slim figure. What would he do without her in this world?

“Where’s Izumi?” Zuko asked as Mai massaged his back. Her fingers were perfect and strong, freeing his back of the stiffness. “She’s asleep. And you should sleep, too,” she answered. Zuko sighed, but he lay down on the bed. Mai caressed his cheek and whispered: “I love you.” He smiled and whispered back: “I love you, too.”

And then, she left and he was alone once again. He felt really relaxed, thanks to Mai’s healing fingers. That reminded him of Katara’s healing powers and those reminded him of the day he dulled Azula. He winced. No, this was not a day to think of those events. But he would see all of his friends again and he looked forward to that, despite his sadness. He fell asleep with a sad smile on his face.

* * *

 Zuko sat down after his speech and finally let out a breath he was holding the whole time. Mai squeezed his hand to stop him from crying. He was already shaking, and crying would be too much. He would have to do that later, when he was alone. A few other people had their speeches, but Zuko didn’t listen.

Instead, he went over all the times with Iroh. How he lost his son and gave up his position, how he helped Zuko find Aang, coped with all of Zuko’s rage, boiled his damned tea, was locked up in prison… All of it came back in flashes and Zuko couldn’t do it. His breathing became more ragged than ever and he shook, crying silent tears, clutching desperately at Mai’s supporting hand.

Most of the people left. Now, it was only Zuko, Mai, Izumi in Mai’s hands, and a few people behind them who Zuko didn’t care about. “Are you okay?” Mai asked. Looking at their daughter, Zuko sighed. “No, but I can do it. Go inside with Izumi, I’m going to stay for a little while.” Mai nodded, planted a kiss on his forehead and left. He could hear her talking to some people, but he didn’t listen.

A few minutes passed and Zuko heard footsteps behind him. He took a deep breath and quickly wiped his tears. “No need to wipe your tears, my friend. You’re more manly with them,” a voice said and Zuko laughed. “Of course, Sokka, of course.”

He stood up and turned and was immediately enclosed in a group hug. “So good to see you,” Aang exclaimed cheerfully. Good ol’ Aang. “We missed you so much!” Katara yelled. “Hey, that was into my ear!” Toph shouted and their group hug fell apart as Katara received a punch in the arm from Toph. Then, Zuko received one, too.

“Hey!” he winced, rubbing his arm. Then, he took in his friends, standing in front of him. The smiling Aang, Katara with tears in her eyes, grinning Toph, Sokka hugging Suki with one arm. “Look at you, all emotional and crying,” Zuko muttered.

“I’d say you’re the emotional and crying one,” Suki noted. Zuko frowned, but everyone else laughed. “But for real, how are you?” Katara asked him seriously and he sighed.

“I don’t know. It’s been tough—,” he began, but Toph’s scoff interrupted him, followed by other giggles, “but I have no choice than to get through it. I just miss him so much..,” Zuko trailed off. Aang put his hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “If there’s any way we can help, we would love to,” he offered.

“No, it’s fine. But I hope you’ll stay overnight and tomorrow, we could have a cup of tea and talk?” Zuko suggested. “That would be awesome!” Suki exclaimed. Gradually, they all left and Zuko stood up and walked to the coffin, temporarily extinguishing the flames as he walked through them. When he was there, he kneeled and took a painting of his uncle out of his pocket. The man put it in front of the coffin and sat there.

After a while, the big wave of tears finally came. Zuko didn’t resist this time. He let the tears out while his whole frame shook uncontrollably. When the tears became more peaceful, a broken, quiet voice could be heard from the courtyard. If one really tried, he could hear Zuko singing a song, and Katara heard it as they were leaving.

She turned towards the wall of flames formed around the coffin, then back to her friends and husband. “I’m going to keep him company for a while. You guys head back to the inn, I’ll come later.” Aang approached her and kissed her forehead. “Sweetie, are you sure about this? Zuko can handle it.”

“I know, but I don’t think anyone should be alone when going through something like this,” she whispered. Aang nodded and let her go. He understood. Katara always wanted to help, anyone and everyone. As she walked all the way through the courtyard, towards the crying boy, she could hear the song.

  _Leaves from the vine_

_Falling so slow_

_Like fragile, tiny shells_

_Drifting in the foam_

_Little soldier boy_

_Come marching home_

_Brave soldier boy_

_Comes marching home_

Zuko could hear the fire being extinguished with water behind him, and a few seconds later, Katara kneeled beside him, putting her hand on his shoulder. Zuko flinched and Katara’s hand fell to the ground. “I’m sorry,” Zuko broke the silence, his voice hoarse. “It’s okay,” Katara sighed as she stared at her hand on the ground.

“Go away, Katara,” Zuko whispered after a while. “I want to be alone.” The woman looked up at him, but his gaze was unfocused, staring into the flames. “No one wants to be alone,” Katara said determinedly. “I do!” Zuko yelled and Katara moved away from him. For a moment, fear crossed her eyes, but concern quickly replaced it.

Katara inhaled. “No, you don’t,” she persuaded him. Zuko looked up, into her eyes, and he fell apart. Katara never heard anyone cry like that before. Zuko couldn’t breathe, his face transformed in a pained grimace, he was shaking, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. He wasn’t the powerful, cold Fire Lord anymore. Now, he was just a boy.

A boy who used to hate Aang, used to hunt them down just to have his father restore his honour, just to be loved again by a man who caused Zuko so much pain. A boy who later joined Team Avatar, helped them in so many ways, became their good friend. A boy who became a strong, good Fire Lord. A boy who was injured by his own sister just to save Katara.

Now, this boy was broken in Katara’s arms, crying over the death of his uncle who was more of a father to him than his actual father could ever have been. His uncle, who was the wisest man Katara had ever seen. His uncle, the man with the biggest tea obssession in the world. His uncle, who always knew what to say.

“You’re right. _I don’t want to be alone_ ,” Zuko whispered as the sun set and they sat by the coffin, surrounded by flames, Zuko’s tears gradually drying, his heart healing once again as the girl with the healing powers held him.

**Author's Note:**

> To clear any misunderstandings that might occur, I didn't mean for Zutara in this fic to be romantic, just good friends, and Katara being the sweet cupcakey queen she is, she wants to comfort Zuko. However, if you ship Zutara, feel free to interpret this in your own way. This work was inspired by a picture I saw on the internet.


End file.
